


Knights and Frights

by ddagent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Babies, Co-workers, Costumes, Crushes, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Ghost Stories, Ghosts, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Movie Remix, Parent-Child Relationship, Pregnancy, Teenagers, Trick or Treating, Vampire Slayer(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: A collection of various paragraph prompts and ficlets, originally posted on tumblr, featuring the relationship between Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth at this spooky time of year.





	1. "Trick or Treat" - Jaime waits for trick or treaters (Modern AU)

**Author's Note:**

> "Prompt: Jaime takes his nieces and nephews trick or treating, dressed in a Goldenhand the Just suit of armour. During their last stop, a woman opens the door. Not only is she dressed in the same costume as Jaime, but she also happens to be the most magnificent thing he has ever seen." (anonymous)

Jaime Lannister stood by his front door and waited. And waited. And _waited. _But no trick or treaters came. 

Sighing, Jaime grabbed the bowl of full-sized chocolate bars and abandoned his post to take up position on his sofa. He rested his boots upon his coffee table and sagged into the plush material. He’d been so _hopeful _for Stranger Day this year. As a child, he’d seen the colourful costumes; the local children knocking on doors for sweets. No one had ever come up to the Rock; no one had dared. Nor had Tywin Lannister ever allowed his children to partake in such _frivolity. _

But Jaime was in Winterfell, now, and he’d gone all out. 

The front garden of his new home was littered with pumpkins; the rough carving with his left hand only adding to their sinister appearance. Fake cobwebs and skeletons covered the grass and hung from his porch. Inside there were candles and bunting. He’d raided the local supermarket, tripling his chocolate budget in the hope of being known as _that house. _And his _costume: _Goldenhand the Just, Jaime’s favourite knight. He looked rather good, if he said so himself. 

Not that anyone else would say it. No one had knocked on Jaime’s crimson door all night. 

Resting his chin atop his spray-painted prosthetic, he decided to call it a day. Blow out the candles in the pumpkins, turn off all the lights, and crawl into bed with whatever _Harrenhal Bloodbath _sequel was playing on the television. But, as Jaime got to his feet, he heard voices. _Children’s _voices. Rapid footsteps moving up his garden path. 

_“Arya, come back!”_

_“C’mon, already!”  
_

_“No one on this street _ever _hands out sweets!”_

_“But they’ve decorated – look!”  
_

Jaime practically sprinted to the door, grabbing his large bowl full of chocolate. He waited, heart pounding in his ears, for a knock. And waited. And _waited. _More footsteps, a throat clearing, and then the lion’s head knocker rocked against his wooden door. 

Grinning, he opened up. Three children stared back at him; two girls and a boy. The younger girl thrust her bag forward, shouting, “TRICK OR TREAT!” 

Jaime mimed chest pains at their rather _spectacular _costumes. “All of you look _amazing. _You’re…Lady Stoneheart, correct?” The tall red-haired girl nodded, her face pale under layers of make-up. “And you’re the Three-Eyed Raven.” The boy beamed, although the plastic bird taped to his shoulder was beginning to droop. “And you must be a faceless man!” The younger girl had a sword on her hip, and two face masks hanging from her belt. “And you—”

He looked up at their parent/guardian, and kept looking. She was, by far, the tallest woman Jaime had ever seen. Light blonde hair was pulled from her face in a messy plait. Blue eyes brighter and deeper than any ocean stared back. In King’s Landing, Stranger Day parties fell into two camps: masquerade balls with ancient Westeros dress, or ‘sexy’ versions of a multitude of costumes. This woman was dressed as a knight. No ordinary knight, either: Ser Blue, Goldenhand’s companion. 

“We match,” he said, almost to himself. 

The three children looked between him and their parent/guardian. The faceless child shrugged. “You’re both knights.” 

“Actually, Arya, it’s said that Ser Blue and Goldenhand the Just defeated Lady Stoneheart—” The miniature version had slipped a phone out of her pocket, seemingly uninterested. “—and began a new brotherhood of knights before they were called to fight in the Long Night. And afterwards—”

“—they were married, and disappeared from history. Hopefully to live happily ever after.” Jaime’s gaze met Blue Eyes, and her cheeks flushed pink in the cool evening air. The faceless child shook her half-full bag, and Jaime returned to his senses. “Anyway, you all look fantastic. Take as much chocolate as you want; no one’s come round all evening.” 

Six hands delved into the proffered bowl; the faceless child throwing a few things in Blue Eyes’ bag before taking more. As the children collected their bounty, Jaime took a moment to enjoy his own treat of the evening: Blue Eyes was a _very _striking woman. Taller than him. Stronger than him, too: her arms moved with ease under what looked like a full suit of armour. He wanted her to stay. Wanted to pepper her with a thousand questions. But with his bowl now empty, there was no reason for her to remain. 

“Come on, you three, let’s get you back home. You can show your Mum how much chocolate you got.” The three children raced down Jaime’s garden path. Blue Eyes smiled warmly at them, before turning to him. Her smile stayed. “Thank you for the chocolate. Sorry you didn’t get more visitors.” 

“Clearly I got the best ones. I have something else for you; if you’d like it.” 

Jaime took a step back inside his foyer, found a message pad and scribbled the digits of his phone number. He folded the parchment, and dropped it inside the empty chocolate bowl. “Trick or treat?” 

Blue Eyes drew in a breath, face pink, before she took his phone number. “Happy Stranger Day, Goldenhand.” 

“Happy Stranger Day, Blue Eyes.” 

Jaime closed the door, grinning from ear to ear. He loved this holiday. 


	2. "Wrong Costume" - Brienne accidentally gets a 'sexy version (Modern AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Brienne accidentally ordered/rented the sexy version of a costume and has to wear it to a Halloween party. Jaime loses his mind when he sees her." (ladyinredfics)

It was the annual Stranger Day faculty party at Winterfell University, and Catelyn Tully-Stark had made it _clear _they were all to attend. More so, they were all to attend as a figure from history. No White Walkers, no bloodsuckers, no shifters. Knights, kings, and wenches. When Jaime had quipped he would go as himself from five years ago, Catelyn had come to the next staff meeting with cheap costumes for them all. 

She’d practically thrown his, a generic ‘Kingslayer’ costume, at his head.

“This is _awful,” _Jaime had said, back in the office he shared with Brienne. “I _mean, _this armour is so cheap looking. It’s more brown than gold. And the wig–Brienne, are you listening to me?” 

“Trying hard not to,” she’d said, her costume laying unattended as she graded papers. “If you’re so upset about the costume, Jaime, why don’t you just make your own?” 

And so, he had. The plastic brown armour had been tossed in the recycling, replaced by metal armour he’d commissioned from a local blacksmith. It had taken Jaime the better part of a weekend to paint the white and gold design, but the effect was worth it. The polyester cape was replaced by soft white cotton; the gloves and tan trousers found at a charity shop. The cheap wig had been abandoned in favour of his own dark-blonde hair, and he’d even shaved for the party. Finishing his ensemble was his replica of Widow’s Wail. 

The Kingslayer was ready to protect the weak, defend the innocent, and pick up his colleague slash crush for the party. 

Jaime knocked on the door of Brienne’s apartment. He then stood on the doorstep, shoulders straight and chest puffed, as he tried to look full of honour. When the door opened, however, he deflated. Greeting him was not the Blue Knight. Instead, it was the tallest ghost Jaime had ever seen. 

He pointed his sword at Brienne’s old sheet, now fitted with two eye holes. “Pray tell, spectre, what historical figure be you?” 

“Piss off.” 

“No wonder you died; you’re rude to a member of the Kingsguard.” Jaime wrinkled his brow. “Why are you dressed as a ghost? Did you leave your costume at work?” 

“I—” Ghost Brienne bowed her head. “I was too busy marking papers to look at my costume until tonight. Catelyn got the wrong one.” 

“She didn’t give you the Blue Knight?” 

“She did, but—” Ghost Brienne shook her head. “It’s fine, I’ll just go like this.” 

She tried to move off the threshold, but Jaime held firm. “Now, now, Professor Tarth, we were told to come as historical figures. I cannot, in all good conscience, allow you to break the rules in such fashion.” 

“Don’t be a dick, Jaime.” 

“Maybe we should switch costumes, then. I may be dressed as the Kingslayer, but I’m no rule-breaker.” 

Ghost Brienne reached up a bare arm to pinch the bridge of her nose through the old sheet. “The Kingslayer was known as an _oathbreaker, _and you break rules all the time. Catelyn said we weren’t allowed a mini-fridge in our office, and you installed a full size one.” 

“That’s _bending _the rules, not breaking them.” Jaime grinned momentarily, before it fell. He’d been looking forward to seeing Brienne as the Blue Knight. With him as the Kingslayer, it would almost look like they were wearing a couple’s costume. “Why don’t you let me see? I’m sure you look fine underneath that sheet.” 

She paused. “No laughing.” 

“I vow not to laugh.” 

Nodding, almost to herself, Brienne removed the sheet. Jaime, as promised, did not laugh. Instead, his jaw fell slack; his mouth losing all concept of speech. Catelyn had got the wrong costume, all right. She had bought Brienne a ‘sexy blue knight’ version. Brienne’s torso was not encased in blue armour, but rather a blue vest printed with a chainmail pattern. Just below Brienne’s breasts was a small House sigil – his House sigil, actually, as it was well-documented that the Blue Knight had connections to House Lannister. Jaime’s gaze travelled further to a red belt with buttons in the shape of gold stars. A barely-there skirt in the same blue as the vest covered Brienne’s bottom and not much more. 

Her legs went on for miles. Endless miles of creamy skin. A plastic, almost phallic, sword hung from Brienne’s hip. “See what I mean? It’s _awful.” _

“Awful isn’t the word I’d use to describe it.” 

Sexy. Erection-inducing. Jaime’s dreams made _manifest. _But as enticing as Jaime found Brienne in her _sexy blue knight _costume, he could recognise how uncomfortable she was. He began pulling the cloak from around his neck. “Here, you can wear mine. I’ll wear your old sheet.” 

“But Catelyn—”

He shrugged. “Like you said, I’m a rulebreaker already.”

And, like the Kingslayer, he broke them for the right reasons. 


	3. "Black Flame Candle" - Hocus Pocus AU (Movie Remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "jb hocus pocus au" (anonymous)

“…the witches were hung the very next day. It’s still said that a golden cat haunts the old Stoneheart place, waiting for the day a _virgin _lights the candle…argh!”

A plastic bat was thrown at Hyle’s face; the teenage boy letting out an unnatural shriek. The rest of the class laughed, all apart from Brienne. Hyle, more than anyone, knew the truth of the Lannisport witches. He’d witnessed Lady Stoneheart, Lady Moon, and Lady Light firsthand last Stranger Day when Brienne had lit the black flame candle and brought them back to life. But the witches were gone; the curse holding Jaime Lannister lifted. 

There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. 

“Alright, class dismissed.” 

Brienne gathered her books into her backpack; forehead furrowing as she watched Hyle grab his things and practically sprint from the classroom. He had barely looked at her since last Stranger Day; had certainly not pushed for them to date, as he had before. Not that Brienne would say _yes, _now, anyway. She had a boyfriend after all. 

Two arms wrapped around her waist; a cold nose brushing her cheek. Mrs Tyrell tutted at the pair of them. “Jaime Hill, this is a classroom, not a brothel. Six inches at all times.”

“Sorry, Mrs Tyrell.” Jaime grinned; the old woman shaking her head. He immediately reached for Brienne’s hand when their teacher was gone. “Nosy old bat.”

“She’s alright,” Brienne said, packing her bag with one hand, for Jaime would not relinquish hers. She slung her backpack over one shoulder and joined her boyfriend in walking out of the classroom. “I should have warned you about the story.” 

Jaime shrugged. “It’s pretty accurate, honestly. Although she did miss out how _devastatingly _handsome Jaime Lannister was, and how _brave _he was to risk the lair of the witches to rescue his beloved brother.” 

"Very brave.” Brienne leaned in close to bump her shoulder against Jaime’s. “Very handsome.” 

Her boyfriend couldn’t stop smiling as they left the building and headed for their bikes. Brienne unlocked the chain of _Oathkeeper, _her blue bike with gold pedals, and Jaime unlocked his. This time last year, Brienne had been riding home alone. Now she had a best friend _and _a boyfriend. Of course, he had lived for one hundred years in the body of a cat and was now back in his original seventeen-year-old form, and lived by himself in the abandoned Casterly manor (’always must be a Lannister at the Rock’) but Jaime had saved her life, and Brienne had broken his curse. She was his, and he was hers. 

He pecked her cheek as they pushed their bikes onto the pavement. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?” 

“Dad and Alys are going to the Stranger Day costume party again,” Brienne said, swinging her leg over her bike. “I said we’d take Podrick trick-or-treating. You don’t mind, do you?” 

“Of course not! I love Pod.” Her stepbrother had joined Brienne, Hyle, and cat Jaime in their adventures last year. “As long as we don’t bring any witches back from the dead this year, I don’t care what we do.” 

“Well, um, there’s—” Brienne felt her cheeks flame; not quite believing she was bringing this up on school grounds. “There’s one way we can make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Jaime chuckled. “_Yeah, _don’t break into any houses, or light other people’s candles!” 

That was _not _what Brienne had in mind. 


	4. "Lady Lannister" - Addams Family AU (Movie Remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Addams Family × Braime? The level of passion Gomez has for Morticia and raising their two badass terror children." (anonymous)

It was an unfortunate morning: Jaime Lannister woke to the sun streaming in through his bedroom windows. The thunderstorm of the previous night had cleared, and he woke to a cloudless sky and warm rays of light. _Ghastly. _Slipping from his bed, Jaime moved to close the heavy crimson drapes. He did not wish the morning light to disturb his slumbering wife, laid bare upon the mattress he had just departed. He prayed to the Gods for rain and thunder, before turning back to his wife. 

Oh, what a marvellous thing she was. 

Brienne Lannister stirred against the onyx sheets; pale limbs flexing and relaxing in equal measure. Jaime wet his top lip as he stared upon his wife; the only ray of light he would gladly welcome into his home. _Oh, _how he’d pined for her. Days and nights of torture lusting for a shard of starlight who would never _dream _of accompanying Jaime back to the crumbling castle of Casterly Rock. But she was _here. _She’d taken his scarlet cloak around her shoulders and she’d carried not one but two of their children. She welcomed him into her bed and into her heart. 

Blue eyes snapped open, immediately seeking his. “Jaime.” 

“Good morning, Lady Lannister.” He pounced on their bed like the lion he was. “How did you sleep, Sweetling?”

“I had terrible dreams.” 

Jaime grinned. “Me too.” 

A flash of blue, and then Jaime’s back was pressed against the mattress. His wife straddled his bare hips; her tall frame looming over his. Jaime had been smitten from the first time she had knocked his foil clear across the room; the blunt edge of her blade digging into the soft flesh of his throat. She was singular in appearance as well as heart: the men of this world were cruel; the women unkind. But as Jaime had often told his wife when he’d courted her: _there are no men like me, only me. _

Jaime growled as his wife pinned his hands to the pillows. He bucked his hips. “Yes. _Yes. _Last night, you were…_unhinged. _You were like some desperate, unyielding creature of the night. You frightened me.” Her grip on his wrists tightened, and Jaime let out a low moan. “_Do it again_.” 

And so she did. Held him against the mattress and took her pleasure from his cock, his mouth. It was only as the morning light grew that Brienne granted him his release. The world shook around him as he came. Brienne then left with a kiss to his lips and pulled a crimson robe over endless miles of creamy skin. He watched Brienne part the drapes for a glimpse of the sun; his darling wife a creature of light, of starlight, no matter how much his darkness had corrupted her. 

“Shall we dance later, Sweetling?” 

“Of course. But first, breakfast.” 

“We’ve worked up quite the appetite.” 

Jaime offered his darling wife a wink, before finding soft pants and a matching maroon robe. They walked to the kitchen arm-in-arm; Lord Lannister unable to keep his hands from his lady wife. As soon as they left their room, however, they were accosted by the screams and shrieks of their children. Joanna was playing with rope again; her younger brother Brynden’s pale face now purple. 

“_Joanna,” _Jaime chastised. 

“What? I said _sword or noose, _he said noose!” 

Brienne shook her head fondly, and ruffled her daughter’s blonde hair. She stared at Brynden. “Both of you need to work on your skills with a blade. We’ll practice later, with Gregor.” 

The Mountain stood, motionless, by the front door. A former man of Jaime’s father, and a man of few words, Gregor was often used as target practice for the children. Jaime offered his wife a helping hand over the last step whilst Brynden crashed to the foyer floor. He gasped, and said, “Can you teach me how to do that knot?” 

“Later, son, it’s time for breakfast.” Jaime hustled their children into the kitchen. 

As his family settled around the oak kitchen table, Jaime left a series of kisses up and down his wife’s arm. After the death of his sister, and the disappearance of his beloved brother, Jaime thought this house would remain empty. That _he _would remain empty. But his beloved had filled his life with love and laughter once again, and he would duel anyone who dared to speak ill of Lady Lannister. 

As the three fresh graves in the cemetery would testify.


	5. "Ghost Stories" - Jaime tells his children tales; Brienne is not amused (Lord Commander AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Idea for knights and frights: Jaime keeps telling creepy stories to their children and while Joanna is entirely fascinated with all the stories of blood thirsty bears, werewolves and white walkers, Galladon can't sleep because of his father's tales. Brienne is not amused. (Jaime has regrets too when Galladon insists on sleeping with his parents in their bed...)" (anonymous)

“…and the little girl entered the library. There was not a single _sound; _just the snow falling outside. She took a step in. And another. And another. No one was there. She was safe in the library. _Or so she thought. _She heard it, then. The sound of _fingernails _against the stone floors. The _groan _of joints from someone long dead. Behind her, the door—”

The door opened. Three lions cubs and a knight shrieked. Brienne, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, stood framed in the doorway. She shook her head at the four of them. “It’s time for bed, children.”

“Oh but _Mother.”_

_“_Please, Mother!”

“Ser Jaime was telling us a story!”

Brienne looked over the heads of their children; a glint in her blue eyes as she caught his gaze. Jaime was thoroughly enjoying their royal procession from King’s Landing to Casterly Rock; away from the hustle of Court he could spend more time with their children. Every night for the past week he had told his cubs ghost stories, and tales of the White Walkers. They would giggle and shriek and Joanna would clutch at his arm. 

So it was with a sad, wistful smile that Brienne packed their children off to bed. “Come along, we have another day of riding tomorrow and we all need our sleep.” 

Cat was the first to gather herself up off the floor. She kissed her mother’s cheek and allowed Ser Jason to accompany her to her room for the evening. Brynden next. He threw Jaime a grin, kissed his mother’s cheek, and followed his sister. Joanna buried her face in the crook of Jaime’s neck before toddling off to her mother. Brienne took her hand, ready to escort their youngest to bed. 

“I’ll make sure Joanna is down, and then return to bed myself, Ser Jaime. If you could ensure the room is clear and safe?”

He nodded. “As always, Your Grace.” 

His Queen, his love, quickly departed. Jaime took himself from the room and went to the one allocated for Brienne. It was the largest room in the inn, although he knew Brienne well: she would be equally happy lying out underneath the stars. Seventeen years on the Iron Throne had not eroded her sense of self; she remained as selfless as ever. Her only real indulgence was taking her Lord Commander to bed as many nights as she could. 

As instructed, Jaime checked cupboards and underneath the bed; he ensured the windows were locked and a single guard posted outside the door. Ser Petyr had fought with Brienne at the Battle of the Trident; he had been a member of her Queensguard since the earliest days. He did not question why the Lord Commander remained in the Queen’s bedchamber. Nor, if he was to step inside, ask why Ser Jaime had removed his shirt and lay enticingly upon the Queen’s sheets. 

It wasn’t long before Brienne returned. She pursed her lips, ignoring him on the bed; instead, she began undoing the buttons on her tunic. Jaime grinned. “You know, I could do that for you.”

“I can undress myself, thank you.”

“_Of course _you can. But I’m rather adept at doing it; if I do say so myself.” 

“Hardly.” Brienne shucked the fabric from her shoulders. “You tear them; you rip them. The royal tailor is in constant demand.” 

Jaime crawled across the mattress to be closer to her. “Then let’s keep the man in work. Come here, let me tear those breeches from your legs.” Brienne did not move. “If I’ve done something to offend you, my lady, will you say? Or will you continue to act as if your beloved tailor has sewn a row of stitches across your lips?” 

Brienne turned, then. “The children will have nightmares. You _must _heed what stories you tell them.” 

“It’s a few harmless ghost stories! Our children are warriors; no spectres will haunt their dreams. I swear to you, Brienne. They’ll be fine.” She made a noise. “They will be _fine. _You worry too much.” 

“I shall remind you of this, Ser, when Joanna screams the inn down.” Despite their disagreement, Brienne came to him. Calloused hands slid around the nape of his neck; the blade of his shoulders. His own snuck around the waistband of her breeches and tugged the material to the floor. “I mean it, Jaime. Your children are very loud.” 

He wet his lips. “They get it from their mother.” 

Jaime surged up and took Brienne in a passionate kiss. Her fingers carded through his chair, pulling him back so as her mouth could leave a wet trail along the length of his throat. His hands brushed her sides; ran along the rivets of her spine. Traced coordinates and constellations in her freckles. Brienne gasped against his skin, and quickly the two made for the cool expanse of the sheets. One hand palmed the tight front of his breeches, and Jaime let out a low growl. 

Elsewhere in the inn, Joanna of Tarth let out an ungodsly scream. 

“Told you,” Brienne murmured against his lips, before quickly reaching for her shift. Jaime had enough time to grasp his shirt before the door flung open. 

“Mother, Mother, I saw a White Walker!” Joanna flung herself at Brienne’s legs. She picked up her daughter; hand moving sweaty strands of blonde hair away from her eyes. “He was _huge, _with pointy teeth!” 

“I’m sure there was no White Walker, little star.” 

From the other side of the bed, Jaime concurred. “I’m sure it was just a shadow, Princess.” 

Joanna’s small face curled in confusion. A look shared by her siblings, who had run into their mother’s room brandishing weapons (Cat, the sword her mother had commissioned for her coming of age; Brynden a candlestick). Brynden drew up tall when he saw there was no danger. “Ser Jaime?”

“Your Mother heard a noise.” Brienne glared. “_Fine, _I heard something; I wished to check upon Her Grace. Now, it seems, I need to conduct a Wight hunt. Which one of you would like to accompany me?” 

Brynden raised his hand; Cat was much quicker. “I have the sword, Ser Jaime. I’ll make sure Joanna’s room is safe. You can protect Mother, Brynden.” 

“_Mother _can protect herself. But I do think, Ser Jaime, that you should check the children’s rooms. And maybe stand guard outside Princess Joanna’s for the remainder of the night?” 

He nodded. “As you wish, Your Grace.” 

Jaime left the room with Cat, and left his son to mime fighting a Wight with the candlestick. As they headed down the hall, Jaime glanced over his shoulder at Brienne. There was a touch of smugness to her smile; a familiar look from their seventeen years of bouts. But there was also something softer, brighter. It was moments like these that they were almost a family. 


	6. "Watcher" - Brienne the Vampire Slayer makes a new friend (TV Remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Brienne the Vampire Slayer and Jaime as Spike!" (anonymous)

Brienne vaulted over the gravestone; her knees hitting grass as she tumbled forward. The vampire lurched ahead. She took chase. Brienne had spotted him in one of the clubs in Lannisport; outdated clothing, no phone or current technology. Just a hungry gaze. Brienne had tracked him through the coastal town up through the hills to one of Lannisport’s many cemeteries. She was beyond ready to put a stake through his heart. Brienne preferred a sword, but they were harder to carry in the urban areas. 

It didn’t matter. A stake would work just as well. 

She tackled the bloodsucker to the dirt. He kicked; his sharp teeth trying to gain a hold on her bare arms or throat. She drove the heel of her hand into his nose. The vampire reeled back, hissing. Quickly, Brienne regained purchase on her stake and drove it through the vampire’s chest. He exploded in a cloud of dust. Successful, Brienne collapsed to the ground and allowed herself to breathe. 

Then she heard the applause. 

Lifting her head from the dirt, Brienne witnessed a man emerge from the shadows. Dark-blonde hair graced the shoulders of an expensive suit; green eyes as vivid as wildfire took in her messy appearance. A pink tongue ran over uneven pointed teeth. He grinned at her. “Crude. Sloppy. You were _lucky, _Ms Tarth.” 

Brienne got to her feet and brushed down the rear of her jeans. “I don’t _get _lucky. And how do you know my name?” 

“I’m Jaime Lannister.” He circled Brienne; a single eyebrow raised. “The Council sent me.” 

“What for?” 

He chuckled; pity crossing his handsome features. “Oh, Ms Tarth. I’m your new Watcher.” 

“I don’t need a new Watcher. I’m doing fine on my own.” 

And with that, Brienne turned on her heel and began to walk away from _him, _away from the Council, away from the cemetery and the stench of death. The sky was beginning to move from an inky black to the first clouds of blue and purple. Soon the sun would rise and Brienne would sleep like those she hunted. First, though, it seemed like she would need to deal with this _Jaime. _Lannister followed her through the cemetery, cursing every now and then at the mud on the soles of his expensive brogues. 

“Into every generation, a slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one,” Lannister called out over the graves. “That’s you, Ms Tarth. The lucky girl.” He finally caught up to her: his green eyes taking in her tall, broad frame; the unfortunateness of her features. He winced. “Probably the only luck you’ve ever had.”

“_Piss off.”_

“And charming, too! No wonder your other Watcher left.” 

Brienne turned and slammed the palms of her hands against Lannister’s chest. “Renly didn’t _leave _me. He..._he died.” _

She had been eighteen when she had been called. Renly had arrived, told her she was _special, _and they’d spent every day for the next year together. Training, learning the lore, fighting the undead and the forces of darkness. She had been young, and so had he. When the Shadow had killed him, the Council had thrown around words like _inexperienced, naive_. They’d also mentioned she would get a new Watcher. 

Brienne didn’t want anyone else. All she’d ever wanted was Renly. “Go home, Mister Lannister. I don’t want you.”

“No. But you need me.” 

She did not have the energy to disagree. 


	7. "Most Wanted" - Cherry Falls AU (Movie Remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Anon you just replied to. Prompting Cherry Falls as requested in tags. Loving the new Halloween fics! :) (Also for your consideration, Cabin in the Woods?)" (anonymous)

Two raps on the front door. Brienne slowly descended the staircase and parted the curtains covering the foyer window. A police car sat by the kerb, and on her doorstep stood Jaime Lannister. Dark shadows sat underneath troubled eyes; fingers running through his golden mane. A sling held his right arm in place. Brienne could still recall the stomp of the killer’s boot as Jaime had tried to rescue her. 

Swallowing, Brienne opened the front door. Jaime immediately brightened. “Hey, Tarth.”

“Hi yourself. How’s the arm?” 

He lifted the sling. “Broken. But I’m alive. You’re alive. We should be grateful.”

Three of their schoolmates had not been so lucky. Brienne had sat next to Melara in English; Jaime’s cousin, Cleos, had worked with them on a History project. Jeyne was the latest victim. Brienne would have been number four had Jaime not come to her rescue after they’d both snuck in after-hours to hear the head of the City Guard talk to their parents about what was happening in Lannisport. 

A serial killer was targeting virgins. 

The news had already spread through the school; Hyle, her ex-boyfriend, had already texted her twice. As had some of the other members of their ‘bet’: _bet you wish one of us had wow, now, huh, Beauty? _Brienne shook her head, clearing her thoughts. In front of her, Jaime’s forehead creased in concern. “Everything okay, Tarth?”

“No.” They both shared a faint smile. “Want to come in?”

“Thanks” 

Brienne double and triple checked the door as she allowed Jaime inside. “I’ll grab us some drinks; you know where my bedroom is.”

Jaime had been her best friend ever since she had moved to Lannisport two years ago; they’d had to give a history presentation on the old knights together, and a friendship had been born. Brienne wished she was in ancient Westeros now: knights and swords and White Walkers. Would be easier than this. Sighing, she grabbed two cola cans and followed Jaime up the stairs. He was perched on the edge of her bed. 

She uncapped his drink and handed it to him. “Thanks for coming round.”

“Of course.” Jaime turned to her as soon as she sat beside him. “Come home with me. You and your father: I want you both at the Rock with us. Father has an entire _army _there; he’s even thinking of decamping to King’s Landing. Come with me.” 

“Jaime—”

“I can’t–you need to be _safe, _Brienne.” He never called her Brienne. Not in the two years she’d known him. “_Please. _You’ll be safe with us at the Rock. There’s guards on every exit; the best security system money can buy.” Jaime offered her a weak version of his usual charming smile. “I tried to tell him it was unlikely my dear sister would be targeted, or Tyrion.” 

“Or you.”

The corners of Jaime’s mouth twitched. “Is it so impossible to believe that I haven’t slept with anyone? That Jaime Lannister might want to wait for the right girl?” 

Before Brienne could process Jaime admitting that he was a virgin, too, her phone buzzed. She snatched it from across her bedsheets, finding yet another series of texts from Hyle. Brienne had broken up with him when he’d kept pressuring her to have sex, only for Hyle to admit their dating was all a bet in the first place. She’d had to physically restrain Jaime from smashing Hyle’s face in. 

As she put aside her phone, Brienne could see the urge had not waned. “_Brienne.” _There it was again. “Please, _please, _don’t go to Hyle just to take yourself off a killer’s most wanted list.” 

“I won’t.” 

Jaime’s left hand covered hers; Brienne looked down into his eyes. They were soft, _pleading. _“I’m serious. The thought of you with him...just, come to the Rock with me. We can stay in my room and listen to music and pretend this isn’t happening.” 

"Okay.” 

“_Okay.” _Jaime squeezed her hand for a moment, before standing abruptly to his feet. “Pack some things, text your father. A car’s waiting out front; we’ll go now. I know you’re scared, but we’ll be together.” He ran a hand through his hair again, talking more to himself than her. “I need you close.” 

Brienne did as Jaime bade and packed some things. Enough clothes for a few days; some books and her replica sword. Jaime laughed when he saw she’d brought it. He then hustled her into the back seat of his town car and held her hand as they made their journey to the Rock. He was trembling; scared no doubt of what the killer was capable of. Maybe, _maybe, _Brienne could suggest they kill two birds with one stone. Maybe, _maybe, _they could both take each other off that list. 


	8. "Amas Veritas" - Practical Magic AU (Movie Remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Halloween prompt, Practical Magic x Braime? The true love spell she summons as a little girl of a guy that doesn't exist; 'cause if he doesn't exist, she'll never fall in love and die of a broken heart. "He will hear my call a mile away. He will whistle my favorite song. He can ride a pony backwards. He can flip pancakes in the air. He'll be marvelously kind. And his favorite shape will be a star. And he'll have one green eye and one blue." Except, whoop, he does exist. And they meet as adults." (nacidofrankjamescooper)

Two moons after her seventh nameday, Brienne made the decision to _never _fall in love. 

Love had, after all, cost Brienne both her mother and father. Love had, after all, driven the inhabitants of Tarth to Evenfall Hall to seek the guidance of Lady Tyrell, guardian of the young Evenstar. Margaery, Olenna’s beloved granddaughter, couldn’t _wait _to fall in love. Raven-black hair, soft brown eyes: Margaery would not lack admirers. Brienne’s appearance was lacking in every regard; it was doubtful any would ever get close enough for Brienne to fall in love with them in the first place.

Still, she would take no chances. 

“What are you doing?” asked Margaery one evening, after Lady Olenna had retired for the night. 

Brienne plucked herbs and gathered them under her arm with a book she had taken from her mother’s library. “I’m summoning a true love spell.” 

Margaery wrinkled her nose and padded softly into the room. She rubbed her face clear of sleep. “I thought you didn’t want to fall in love.”

“I don’t. I’m summoning a love too good to be true. If he’s not real, then I’ll never die of a broken heart.” 

Brienne collected the last few ingredients for her spell, and with a wave of her fingers, the book took itself to the correct page. Margaery was a witch, like her, but the power of the Tarth line was greater than the Highgarden Coven. Still, Brienne hoped she was powerful enough to cast it. 

“He will hear my call a league away. He will know all the words to all the songs and tales of old. He can ride a horse backwards.” Margaery giggled at that. Brienne shushed her. “He’ll be as good with a blade as I. He’ll be honest, and never say a lie. His favourite animal will be a lion. And everything he touches turns to gold.” 

_Amas Veritas: _a true love spell. Brienne cast it upon a rare cloudless night in the Stormlands, and never thought of it again. Until _he _showed up. 

Brienne should have known something was coming. The sky was clear; the air warm. She thought it perhaps a leftover sign from recent events: Margaery’s failed betrothal to Joffrey Baratheon, the heir to Storm’s End; her subsequent return to Tarth with her friend, the Evenstar. Joffrey’s body cast off into Shipbreaker Bay along with his crossbow. But it wasn’t the past that had come to haunt them, it was the present. 

“My Lady, Ser Jaime Lannister is here to see you.” 

Brienne stood up from the chaise in her solar, putting aside the old stories she had been reading to her wards; two wolves from the North. She gestured for the Septa to take the children outside whilst she conducted her business. Ser Jaime Lannister entered with a flourish of a red cloak. His Lannister armour was emblazoned with gold lion heads; a roaring mouth of his House sigil across his chest. He nodded in greeting. 

“My Lady, forgive the intrusion. My name is Ser Jaime Lannister, I am here to speak with you and Lady Margaery about my nephew, Joffrey Baratheon.” 

_Fuck. _Brienne had forgotten that Joffrey’s mother was a lioness. _Fuck. “_What could we have to discuss, Ser? Lady Margaery has ended her betrothal to your nephew.”

“Joffrey is missing. No one has seen him; nor heard from him. The last anyone saw of him was in the company of your friend. _Please, _my lady, I have questions.” 

Brienne stiffly turned to her squire. “Call upon Lady Margaery, see if she is well enough to join Ser Jaime and I. If not, he will have to wait.” 

“I am Ser Jaime _Lannister, _my lady, of Casterly Rock. I wait for no one.” 

“I am the Evenstar of Tarth, Ser. You will _wait _if I deem it so.” 

Ser Jaime barked a harsh laugh. “You’re a stubborn creature, my lady. Must be why there is no Lord Tarth. Pray your stubbornness does not rub off on Highgarden’s prize rose.” 

“Lady Margaery is her own person. She has enough presence of self to realise she did not wish to be married to your monster of a nephew.” 

“My _nephew _is heir to Storm’s End, and will be your liege lord upon his discovery. “ Ser Jaime cast his eyes upon the room and settled upon the book of stories she had been reading. “Just because a man is not a golden knight of old does not make him a monster.” 

“The stories are—”

“—for children, and embittered ladies stuck on islands. I would have expected Lord Selwyn’s daughter to have more loyalty to the Baratheon seat instead of challenging the heir to Casterly Rock!”

“Well, perhaps the Baratheons should have sent one of their own rather than an arrogant lion from the Westerlands!” 

It was, at that point, that her squire returned to announce that Margaery would join them shortly. Her squire offered Ser Jaime some refreshments, and that was when Brienne noticed something quite curious. Ser Jaime’s hand was made of gold. She dimly recalled a story of the Golden Lion losing a paw; _a shame, _she’d thought at the time. _He’s one of the best swordsmen in all of Westeros; probably as good as I am. _

Oh _fuck. _Amas Veritas. _Oh fuck. _


	9. "Chest Plate" - Brienne's costume doesn't fit (Modern AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Soft halloween prompts? Jaime secretly commissioned armour for Brienne's halloween costume a few months back, he swears he got her measurements right but the chestplate doesn't seem to fit when she tries it on" (anonymous)

“Jaime, it doesn’t fit.” 

“_Try again.” _

Brienne rolled her eyes, huffed, and stomped back into their bedroom to try on the Stranger Day costume he had commissioned especially for her. His girlfriend was to be Ser Blue; Jaime, Goldenhand the Just. He’d had Brienne’s armour custom-made _months _ago: blue plates, a studded red belt with gold stars. Jaime had even paid out for an incredibly accurate replica of _Oathkeeper _to accompany her ensemble, but he had not yet handed that over. He intended to do so much later, whilst down on one knee. 

His love just needed to look the part first. 

“I _told you_: it doesn’t _fit.” _

Brienne trudged out of their bedroom and thrust the chest plate into Jaime’s arms. “I’ll use one of our sheets and go as a ghost.”

“You will _not. _Do you know how _expensive _our sheets are?” 

“This is coming from the man who thought a pint of milk cost ten dragons!” 

Brienne collapsed on their sofa, arms crossed over her chest. Her face was ruddy; sweaty blonde strands sticking to her hair. The scowl that Jaime had often seen in the first months of their acquaintance had returned with fervour. He didn’t know what to say, what to _do, _to make this right. He was _sure _he had her measurements correct. He’d seen her body enough; traced it with his hands and tongue many a time to know her dimensions. 

He had obviously failed. He dropped to his knees beside Brienne, putting his hand upon her leg. “I’m sorry. I thought I had your measurements; I guess I was off.”

“It’s alright.” Brienne wet her top lip; her face still flushed but her anger fading. “I think I’ve put on some weight in the last few months. And I’ll probably put on some more.”

“Because you’re breaking up with me, and you’ll be comfort eating because you’re not sure if it’s the right decision?” Jaime asked; half-teasing, half-not. 

Brienne chuckled, a smile breaking through on her face. “No, Jaime. I–I went to the maester today. I’m pregnant.” 

“You’re–you’re—”

“We haven’t really talked about it; I wasn’t sure how you would react. And then you made me this beautiful gift and I got so _angry _that I couldn’t wear it, and—” Her head lolled back against the fabric. “I’m sorry that I ruined your gift, Jaime.” 

“Are you—” Brienne was pregnant. Brienne was pregnant with _his _child. They were going to have a baby. A lion cub with blue eyes and a stubborn streak a mile wild. He swallowed, blinking back tears. “Hold on.” 

Jaime suddenly raced from the room, leaving a very confused Brienne behind. She’d understand soon enough. He went into his office where Brienne would never look (she, unlike his past relationships, understood the nature of _privacy_), and found the satin-lined box in which he’d stored _Oathkeeper. _Grabbing the sword, holding it afloat, Jaime ran back to his pregnant girlfriend who looked about ready to murder him with the wireless router. 

He went down on his knees in front of Brienne once more and presented her with _Oathkeeper. _Brienne’s mouth quickly formed an ‘o’; her fingers running along the decorated steel. “It’s an engagement sword!” Jaime said brightly, puffing from the exertion. “I was going to ask you to marry me. I _am _asking you to marry me.” 

“Yes, Jaime, _of course.” _

Delicately placing the sword to one side, Jaime lifted up on his heels to press a kiss to his fiancee’s lips. He could taste salt from tears: whether hers or his own, he did not know. Or care. This was the best Stranger Day Jaime had ever had. 

Next year, _next year, _he would plan a costume for three. 


	10. "Can I Keep You?" - Casper AU (Movie Remix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Would you be willing to do a Casper AU please?" (anonymous)

The Stranger Day party at Casterly Rock was in full swing. The hostess, however, was sitting by herself in a corner. Brienne sat, wearing the breeches and tunic that had made her feel like a _real knight, _and watched her new schoolfriends dance and smile to everyone else but her. Renly, her only new friend amongst the living, had already left with Loras when his prank had failed. So Brienne sat, and watched, and waited for the party to be over. 

The music continued to play, accompanied by a few gasps in the crowd. Brienne followed their gaze. _A boy. _

_Boy _was perhaps too weak a term. The young man descending the grand staircase in the Casterly ballroom must have passed his seventeenth nameday. He was tall, almost as tall as Brienne. Golden hair brushed his shoulders; his green eyes were as flawless as emeralds, and moved over the ballroom with ease. They settled upon her, and Brienne waited for them to move away in disgust. They did not. 

The dancing crowds parted in his presence. He continued walking towards her. Throat bobbing, he offered her his hand. “May I have this dance?”

“You–you want to dance with _me_?”

“More than anything. My lady?”

Brienne took his hand. His palm was calloused, like hers; as if he’d been playing with swords his whole life. He was certainly dressed like a knight of old: well-shined black boots, dark breeches, a red tunic. There were lions embroidered into the fabric. A fitting costume, as this had once been the seat of House Lannister. As Brienne felt the boy’s arm wrap around her waist, she felt a stab of disappointment. Most girls in her class – in the kingdom – would kill to be dancing with someone so handsome. 

But she would give everything to dance with Jaime, her dearest and now only friend, just _once. _

The boy lifted her hands from his shoulders and wrapped them around his neck. He was grinning at her, green eyes shining, and Brienne suddenly wondered when the punchline would come. “Maybe you want—”

“—I don’t want anyone else.” His arms held her tighter, and Brienne felt like she was floating. When she glanced at her feet, she realised she was. Gasping, she clung to the boy. He beamed as her nose brushed his cheek. “I told you, Brienne: there’s no one like me. Only me. _Can I keep you?”_

Brienne stared into the eyes of the boy, suddenly so familiar. “Jaime?”

He gave a single nod. Jaime. _Her Jaime. _She could see it now. His eyes, his smile: the parts she had been able to glean from his ghostly pallor after she and her father had moved into Casterly Rock to investigate spectres and the supernatural. He had tried to drive her off at first, along with the rest of his family. But she’d seen something in him, some blue spark of _life. _Brienne wasn’t sure how that spark had engulfed into _this, _but she didn’t want to waste a moment. 

Brienne clung to his neck; Jaime’s hands brushing her hair. Her new schoolfriends watched them, no doubt baffled by this turn of events. Jaime’s fingers, pink and warm, touched the shell of her ear. His breath tickled the strands of hair. “Can I kiss you?” 

She nodded. Far away, Brienne heard the first chimes of the clock. Then all she saw was Jaime’s face; his green eyes closed as he lifted up on his toes to press his mouth to hers. His lips were dry and warm – so _warm_ – and Brienne kissed him back as softly as she could. She didn’t want to ruin this moment, to break this spell. 

The clock stopped chiming. When Jaime pulled away, he stared at her unwaveringly. “_Mine.”_


	11. "Scarer" - Jaime visits a haunted house (Modern AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you’re still taking Halloween prompts, a haunted house but Brienne has to hold Jaime’s hand so he won’t punch the actors. Extra kudos if they’ve never met before 😉" (anonymous)

Every year, Evenfall Hall and its grounds were transformed into a haunting experience for Stranger Day. Cobwebs and rubber spectres would litter the halls Brienne had played in as a child; pumpkins and skeletons would cover the grounds. White Walkers and witches and ghoulish creatures from all Seven Hells would pop up at the patrons, giving all those who ventured to the island a damn good scare. 

And this year, Brienne was in the centre of it. 

She was one of the first scares in the haunted house: a lady of ancient Westeros who had been transformed into a White Walker. The only dress she’d managed to find in her size was pink, with lace across her bosom. The skirt was ripped, and Brienne made a few new tears for the undead effect. Underneath, thankfully, she wore jeans and a pair of trainers. Her hair hung limply by her head; her face powdered paler than usual. Dark make up underneath her eyes made the colour pop. 

_There. _Hopefully, she would be scary enough. 

As the haunted house at Evenfall began, Brienne lurched out at the patrons. “AAAARGH!” she hollered, making a guttural sound at the back of her throat (which she had long thought the undead of the Long Night made). 

Two young men and a woman leapt back. “Fuck!” one of them cried. 

The young woman laid a hand upon her racing heart. “Ugh, they really did a good make-up job on that one. So _ugly.” _

Brienne gnashed her teeth at the three, and they quickly scurried away. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard such things. As a child, every Stranger Day a handful of her classmates would ask what mask she was wearing, only to chuckle and say _oh, you’re not wearing a mask. _Cruel words were not uncommon for Brienne; thankfully, at the haunted house, she could scream in their face. 

Two men came through next: a tall man chewing a piece of gum, and a dwarf swigging from a flask. Brienne leapt out at the pair of them, and both jumped. “Fuckin’ ‘ell.”

“Damn the Gods; I’ve spilt my whiskey.” He looked down at his shirt, and back up at Brienne. “This is turning into a very expensive Stranger Day.” 

The pair moved off; another man following on their heels. Brienne screamed in his face, only for the man to pull his left arm back in a fist. She raised both hands. “Don’t hit me; I just work here.” 

“Shit.” His arm immediately dropped. “Fuck, _fuck, _of course you do.” He ran a hand through his hair; dark in the dim lights of the haunted house. “I’m so sorry, Miss. My brother thought this would be a good idea, but all it’s doing is fucking with my nerves.”

One of the other scarers swung out with a knife, and the man raised his fist again. Brienne took it, dropped it, and held it tight within her own. He bowed his head. “The entrance is just behind you; I can sneak you out.”

“No, no, they’d never let me live it down.”

Brienne understood. So she clasped the man’s hand within her own. There was only one thing for it, really. “I’ll escort you through, it’s fine.” 

“You don’t need to—”

“—I insist.“ Not only was Brienne worried about this man’s mental health, but she was also worried about the physical well-being of her employees. Much easier to hold hands with this – rather handsome – man. “Come on.”

They began their walk through the haunted house. Every now and again someone would pop up to scare them: the man, who was missing a hand, just squeezed hers even tighter. She gave a few thumbs up to her scarers who were doing a _wonderful _job. The man looked at her curiously. 

“So, you’re in charge of all this? Scaring men and women from across the Seven Kingdoms?”

Brienne laughed. “I ‘spose. I’m the curator of Evenfall Hall, and the haunted house brings in a lot of money this time of year. We do advise our patrons to check out the pumpkin patch if they’re easily scared, though.”

The man had the decency to look sheepish. “My brother, Tyrion, thought this would help keep my mind off things. Well, this.” He raised his right arm. “I’d much rather look at the actual museum. How long does it take to pull all this down?”

“A couple of days. We’ll be back to normal by Monday. You should pop back then.”

The man squeezed her hand. “I might just do that.” 

They made it through the rest of the haunted house with relative ease; Brienne still holding his hand. She talked a great deal of the inspiration for each section; the throwbacks to history that her companion seemed to lap up. When they got out the other side, in the cool night air, the man took a long, deep breath. He took the hand that had held hers for most of the night and left a kiss to her knuckles. 

“Thank you, Lady Tarth. I appreciate you helping me, and not trying to eat me.” 

Brienne grinned. “Next time, just go to the pumpkin patch.”

“I will.” His forehead creased as he stared at her. “Say, where did you get those contacts? I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that blue.”

“They’re not–I mean–_they’re my eyes.”_

The man swallowed. “They’re the most haunting thing I’ve seen all night.” 

And, with that, he took his leave to find his brother and his friend. Brienne watched him go, and wondered if he would truly visit the museum next week. She hoped he would. 


	12. "Little Lion" - Jaime and his cub visit Brienne (Modern AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't come up with anything spooky as a halloween prompt but I did think about jaime putting their child in a lion costume and that made me emotional so I decided to share that with you" (remuslovestonks)

Jaime balanced Cat on one hip whilst he pressed the button for the lift. He made sure his cloak was safely inside before the doors closed. One of the paralegals at Stark, Tully, and Reed gave him an odd look. Jaime just grinned. “Happy Stranger Day.”

“Sure…Mister Lannister.” 

He must appear odd: Jaime Lannister, the fearsome Tywin Lannister’s son, dressed as a knight from ancient Westeros and holding a ten-moon old babe in a lion costume. His daughter yawned, and buried her face in Jaime’s shoulder. Her cloth paws nudged his chest. He left a kiss atop her furry head. “Not long, Cat. Mummy’s on the seventh floor.” 

The lift ticked over to seven, and Jaime and Cat stepped out. A few familiar faces waved in his direction; several women eyed his broad armoured chest and the adorable babe he carried in his arms. Being a stay-at-home father suited Jaime: he loved taking care of his girls. Looking at the harried faces of his former co-workers, he didn’t miss the thrill of the courtroom, or the endless paperwork. His beloved had wanted to work, he had wanted to spend time with their lion cub. The solution had seemed a no-brainer. 

Some didn’t understand it. Some had never understood _them_. Jaime could not care less. 

Ducking through familiar corridors, Jaime reached Brienne’s office. They’d had their first kiss in that room. He’d told her he loved her in that room. He knocked on the door, and stood in the doorway of that room with their child. “Oh, Ms Tarth, might I beg a moment of your time?” 

“Jaime!” Brienne’s face split into a smile as he crossed into the room. Cat immediately started reaching for her mother. “Oh, she looks _adorable.”_

“Cat the lion.” He grinned, reaching out to brush Cat’s tail against his daughter’s nose. She giggled as she reached out to play with it. “Next year, she might be old enough to be a knight. Family costume, what do you think?”

Brienne smiled, holding their daughter closer. “I think I’m the luckiest woman in all of Westeros.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” 

“Westerosi divorce rates?” Brienne laughed, her hand reaching forward to slide along the nape of Jaime’s neck. “This is the part where you say you’re the luckiest man, too.” 

“Like I said: _tell me something I don’t know.”_

Brienne kissed him instead. 


	13. "Real Events" - Jaime and Brienne post massacre (Modern AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you like teen slashers, what about a writing an AU where Jaime and Brienne get caught up in one? I've really enjoyed your spooky prompts ... they were perfect making the reader want more especially the Addams Family AU (just how did Jaime woo Brienne? who else is hanging around their creepy mansion?)!" (anonymous)

‘This film is based upon real events.’

Those words greeted Jaime as he slid past the other cinema patrons and took his seat in the theatre. Everything was black, apart from those seven words plastered upon the big screen. _Real events. _Oh, Jaime knew those events all right. He’d lived every painful second of _The Riverrun Massacre. _He still felt the ache of his missing limb, even ten years on. And now his pain, his _fear, _had been filmed, marketed, and sold to him for the bargain price of ten silver stags. 

The young woman next to him nudged him in the ribs. “You know, I heard all this really happened.”

“Hence, _based upon real events.” _Jaime slid down in his seat as he watched the movie unfold. 

There had been seven of them, originally. Four in Brienne’s car, and three in Addam’s. They’d been driving up north for some concert, or was it a lecture…Jaime could scarcely remember _why, _these days. He remembered the man watching them as they’d stopped to piss and refuel. He remembered Brienne’s tyre blowing, and the argument they’d got into over proper automobile care. Then screams, and blood, and his hand was gone. Flashing lights and Brienne was crying. Or he was crying. It was hard to tell. 

_“Hey, Jaime,” _a blonde blue-eyed beauty battered her eyelashes at his on-screen counterpart. “_Want to share a tent later_?”

They hadn’t gone camping. Just taken a shortcut. The only girls in the car had been Addam’s girlfriend, Jeyne, and Brienne herself. She was now played by a diminutive brunette in glasses, who stared longingly at the gorgeous hero. A few in the audience snickered as the ‘popular’ girl (a dead-ringer for his, unfortunately, still breathing sister) called out her affections. That hadn’t happened either. It had been Jaime who’d followed Brienne around like a lost puppy. 

When the gore started, Jaime bolted from his seat. 

His shoulder slammed into one of the attendants who was keeping an eye on film piracy. “Hey, no refunds!”

“Don’t need one,” Jaime hissed under his breath. “It constantly plays in my head.”

Outside the theatre, Jaime pulled in a series of shallow breaths. Stupid, _stupid _Lannister. Why did he think he was ready for this? Why had he even bought a ticket? It wasn’t just the inaccuracies; the portrayal of him as dumb arm-candy who probably had his dick chopped off rather than his hand. It was people _laughing. _People looking at Brienne and thinking she was anything other than a hero. A _final girl _they called girls like her in the films. 

She was certainly his; he’d never felt about anyone else the way he’d felt about her. His friend. His protector. 

Rubbing his face, Jaime went to the concessions stand and bought a bottle of water and a coffee. He sipped the water whilst his drink cooled, and sat in a small lounge area whilst his heart rate returned to normal. There was a cardboard cut-out of his character from the film; one arm slung around Brienne’s waist. He could imagine her standing in front of him, scowling as her very opposite took credit for saving both their lives. 

“Jaime?” 

He blinked. “Tarth. You’re not here—” He drew in a breath. “_You’re here.”_

Two arms wrapped around her torso. The scars around her neck and throat were covered by a heavy turtleneck. Her eyes were still so _damn _blue. They had been the first thing he’d seen after Brienne had dragged him to safety. The first thing he’d wanted to see for the rest of his life. But the press had been too much, and Brienne had wanted an entire ocean between her and the rest of Westeros. Jaime hadn’t – _couldn’t _– blame her. 

“I had a work thing, and I just—” Her teeth toyed with her bottom lip; eyes straying to that cardboard cut-out. “Gods, Jaime, I just needed to see. But I couldn’t go in.”

“I had to leave.” He stood up, abandoning his cooling coffee. He reached for her hand, as he had done so after Locke and his followers were dead, whilst they waited in the hospital and then the police station. As he had shortly before her father had taken her home. “Coffee?”

She nodded. “I’d–I’d like that. Where?”

“I have a great machine at home.”

A flicker of a smile. “Sure.”

Before, _before, _Brienne would have flushed and stammered and assumed that he was mocking her. They’d moved past that; shared something no one else had. The last ten years had been painful for Jaime: unwilling to share, unable to move on. If there was one good thing about this film, it was that it had brought them into each other’s orbit. 

Still didn’t stop Jaime from punching his film character’s cardboard head, though. 


	14. "Yolk" - Brienne's house gets egged [Modern AU]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "halloween prompt: brienne's house gets egged" (anonymous)

Brienne woke up early the morning after Stranger Day, as she always did. Softly padded down to the kitchen, filled a bucket with soapy water, and began clearing up the mess that had been left the night before. As she _always _did.

After the trick-or-treaters had finished collecting their sweets (Brienne dressed as a Kingsguard with a flowing white cloak; her father wearing the paper mache crown she’d made as a child), they had a brief window of, say, an _hour _before Brienne’s classmates would drive past and do their best to demolish the Tarth residence. Toilet paper thrown in the weirwood tree in their front garden. Eggs smashed against their blue door. One year, the boys in the bet had thrown condoms onto her porch. 

Brienne tried to clear the worst of it before her father woke. It was easier than explaining _why _they targeted their house so much. 

The autumn air was crisp as Brienne stepped outside her front door. She closed it, and began scrubbing at the wood. Some yolk slimed her hand. “_Yuck.”_

“You got hit pretty bad, huh?”

Brienne’s head snapped in the direction of her garden gate; arm raised with her sponge as a weapon. Jaime Lannister stood at the end of her path. Not a golden hair out of place; not a scuff on shoes that most likely cost more than she earned a month tutoring the Stark girls. Brienne dropped her arm, but only a fraction. In the years she had known Jaime Lannister, he had been cruel and biting. But he had never, _ever, _egged her house on Stranger Day. The Lannister siblings had better things to do, it seemed. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He shrugged. “Was out walking.”

“You live on the other side of town.”

Another shrug. “Heard some stuff. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“Why?”

“You’re my friend.”

“I—” Brienne swallowed. “I am?”

His shoulders dropped. “Guess not.”

Jaime tapped his hand against the wooden gate and began walking back down the street. She called after him. “Wait!” Apparently, Jaime Lannister (the most popular, the most pretty, the most charming) thought _they _were friends. Sure they studied together. Went to that museum opening together. Saw that Ser Duncan movie a couple of times, and ate afterwards. Oh, _wow. “_I–I haven’t had a lot of friends before.”

“Neither have I.” He made the few paces back to her garden gate, and unlatched it. “Friends help each other, yeah? Have you got a second sponge?” 

She nodded. Brienne stepped inside to find it, and came out to find Jaime already scrubbing at the brickwork. He grimaced. “Connington’s an arse.”

“They all are.”

“We’ll get them back for this; I promise.”

Brienne smiled. Jaime was so adamant, so _determined _that justice be done. She was just happy not to clear up alone. “Help me with the loo roll in the tree? I want to make sure it’s down before Dad wakes up.”

She gave Jaime a boost as they cleared the paper from the branches. The rain overnight had done little to aid their cause, and he came away with clumps sticking to his fingers and hair. They cleaned themselves up and continued scrubbing the yolk and shells from the front of her house. Then the pumpkin remains they had thrown at her car, _Oathkeeper. _

They had just about finished when Brienne’s now pristine front door opened. Her father poked his head through. “Breakfast, you two?”

“I’d love an omelette,” Jaime said, winking at Brienne. 

Her father roared, and clapped his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “Come on in, lad; I think I can rustle up some bacon. Any friend of Brienne’s, you know.”

Over breakfast, her father asked _her friend _non-stop questions. Brienne wanted to say, _he’s not my friend, he’s just Jaime. _But friends helped clear up after your house has been trashed. Friends smiled and secretly plotted revenge over orange juice and bacon sandwiches. Friends stayed to sit on your bedroom floor and demolish the Stranger Day sweets they’d not handed out the night before. Jaime was her _friend. _And, unlike the smattering of others she’d had over the years, had no desire to stop.


End file.
